


Life Is But A Dream

by MirandaRoseOfSkywall (lostinmymindforever)



Category: Warcraft (2016), World of Warcraft
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Mentions of Murder, Mentions of Violence, Past Lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-02
Updated: 2016-07-02
Packaged: 2018-07-19 16:54:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7370038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostinmymindforever/pseuds/MirandaRoseOfSkywall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He watches with growing horror as the only person he has ever loved falls to the ground, body broken and bloodied. A scream rips from his throat as he runs towards the crumpled body, but hands hold him back, preventing him from going to his love’s side, preventing him from joining Lothar in death.</p><p>-</p><p>Khadgar wakes from his dream, the same dream he’s had off and on for most of his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Life Is But A Dream

**Author's Note:**

> Mentions of past (life) Medivh/Garona  
> Mentions of past (life) Medivh/Khadgar  
> Mentions of past (life) Medivh/Lothar
> 
> Brief appearance of Go'el

_He watches with growing horror as the only person he has ever loved falls to the ground, body broken and bloodied. A scream rips from his throat as he runs towards the crumpled body, but hands hold him back, preventing him from going to his love’s side, preventing him from joining Lothar in death._

-

Khadgar wakes from his dream, the same dream he’s had off and on for most of his life. As always when he has these dreams he’s covered in sweat, fighting for breath, and tears are stinging in his eyes. He climbs out of bed, noticing the annoyed look on the face of man he had been sleeping next to.

“You had _that_ dream again, didn’t you?” his partner asks, annoyance and a bit of anger coloring his voice.

Khadgar nods mutely, closing his eyes, knowing that his partner felt like Khadgar was somehow betraying him with these regular dreams about the loss of… Khadgar isn’t quite sure what to call the phantom man in his dreams. Lover doesn’t seem a strong enough word. What troubles Khadgar is the fact that the man he has dreamed about for so long is no one he has ever met before.

Khadgar watches as his partner gets out of bed, hastily throwing on his clothing before heading towards the door, “I don’t think this is going to work out, Khad. I can’t be with someone who is more in love with a dream than me.”

Khadgar watched in silence as the man left. This had happened before, more times than Khadgar wanted to admit. He’d allow someone into his life, and things would be going good for a while, but the minute he started allowing himself to fall in love the dreams would come back, night after night. He’d wake screaming, he’d get lost in himself, he’d end up pushing away the person who should have been his world over a phantom, a dream image.

-

“ _He wouldn’t have wanted you to die like that, Archmage. He would have wanted you to live on, to continue the fight. You know that.”_

_Khadgar stared at the man, hurt and anger in his voice, “You do not know that.” He stalked away, refusing to let the soldier see the tears that threatened to fall. The man didn’t understand, no one did. Khadgar felt like a shadow of who he had been. He’d lost so much, too much, and everyone expected him to just keep strong and continue on like his whole world hadn’t been ripped from him._

-

He’s standing behind the bar, serving the regulars, helping them achieve their normal, mid-afternoon drunk. The bar is packed more than usual today, all the regulars at their usual seats, and a large group of men, a mixed group, some in suits, some in biker gear, sitting in the back corner, their loud voices a dull roar in Khadgar’s ears.

He feels more than sees someone approach the bar from the group, and turns to take the man’s order, only to be caught in an amused blue gaze. The glass in Khadgar’s hand almost falls to the ground, but he manages to keep his grip on it, forcing a look of calm onto his face. He takes the man’s order, feeling almost a jolt of electricity surge through him as their hands accidentally brush when he hands the man his change.

Khadgar watches as the man returns to his friends, only then excusing himself to the back to let out a shaky breath. He knew those eyes, knew that face. He’d dreamed of it for as long as he could remember, the phantom man whose loss had driven everyone Khadgar had ever been involved with away was real. Khadgar didn’t know what to do.

-

_He thinks back on their first meeting, but for some reason the memory is fuzzy, as if two warring images a vying for supremacy in his mind. The first memory is of meeting the man while traveling with Medivh, as his apprentice, while in the other he meets Lothar before ever laying eyes on the other mage. Both seem so right and real, and Khadgar can’t understand where the false memory has come from, nor which one of them is actually the false one._

_He runs a tired hand over his face, taking a deep cleansing breath as he tries to regain his focus, as he tries to sort through the jumbled thoughts and memories that plague his brain._

-

Khadgar called in sick the next few days. While he hadn’t had _that_ dream again, his mind had been filled with others. Always staring himself, always concerning _that_ man, or at least the aftermath of his death. Khadgar feels like he’s being driven insane, by this not-phantom, by these dreams or visions or memories or whatever they are.

Finally he decides to throw caution to the wind, deciding to go and see a psychic about what has been happening. He doesn’t really believe in psychics, but right now anything would be better than the ever present something assaulting his mind. The nearest psychic that Khadgar can find works in a place called “Kara’zan” and that name is somehow familiar to him.

Khadgar goes to the place, allowing the shockingly familiar assistant to lead him into the back room, his mind raging between calling himself foolish, telling him to run, and demanding to know just what is going on. As soon as the psychic enters the room, Khadgar feels his face go pale. “Medivh,” his voice is barely a whisper, and yet it seems to echo in the dark room.

“Young Trust,” the psychic says with an amused grin.

Almost at once Khadgar feels a rush of images flood into his mind. Memories, he dimly thinks, two different yet similar sets of memories forcing themselves into him.

“Let it happen, Khadgar, let yourself remember who you were. Don’t fight it,” Medivh says, and Khadgar wants to run, but his legs have seemed to turn to stone and he can’t force himself to move.

It feels like an eternity before it’s done, and yet a quick glance at the clock on the wall shows it was barely a minute. Khadgar can’t seem to catch his breath, the memories of another life, no not just one life, but lives, fill his mind. He can remember everything. The wars, the betrayals, the loss. He can remember Medivh’s death, putting the possessed man out of his misery, he can remember Lothar’s death, remembers lifetimes where he had loved the man from afar, remembers lifetimes where they had been together, remembers lifetimes where they had never even met. He remembers everything.

“This world, it appears, is safe from the Legion,” Medivh says, as if Khadgar’s life hadn’t just been thrown upside down. “All of the versions of us, all of us, seem to be funneled here upon our final deaths in those universes of magic and darkness and fantastical creatures. It’s overwhelming at first, drives many people mad, knowing everything. I have have memories of being used my entire life as a pawn, a puppet for them. I also have memories of assisting them willingly. And then there were the versions of me who had no connection, no link to the Legion at all. The memories are always there for when you need them, but with time… with time you can learn to ignore them for the most part.”

Khadgar shut his eyes tightly, his mind assaulted with a slideshow of pain, watching over and over again as Lothar died. Each time Khadgar felt a piece of himself break, and he wept. “Lothar,” the name fell from his lips, the single word filled with loss and love and hurt and a myriad of other emotions. He wanted to scream, wanted to rage, wanted to go and find Lothar and confess his love to him, and he knew he couldn’t. He sobbed, the pain of so much loss catching up with him, and collapsed to the floor of Medivh’s shop.

-

_He’s standing over Lothar’s prone body, watching with a twisted sense of glee as the life saps from the man’s form. The Fel fills Khadgar as he reaches down to finish off the warrior, snapping the man’s neck with a sickening crunch._

-

_They sit on a hill, overlooking the vast, peaceful kingdom below them, Khadgar giving a contented sigh as Lothar wraps his arm around his shoulders, pulling him closer. They seem to move as one, turning their heads towards each other and share a brief, yet love filled kiss._

-

_He’s an old man, one who has seen too much, lived through far too many wars, and yet knows there are more to come. He has no life of his own, only the duty that has been thrust upon him. He has lost much, more than any man should be asked to lose, and yet he knows he’ll have to give more. He watches as the years pass him by, and waits for the blessing of death to finally come for him._

-

“Make it stop,” Khadgar whispers, his eyes reddened from tears. “Make it stop,” he begs Medivh once more, desperately wanting to forget.

“I can’t, Khadgar. Once the memories begin to return they cannot be turned back.”

A low, broken sob passes Khadgar’s lips as he wraps his arms around himself, trying to disappear. Medivh is a constant presence as Khadgar’s mind is filled and reshaped to hold all of his other lives. A few times he lashes out, striking at Medivh with his fists and words, and the older man just lets him do what he needs to. He screams in frustration and anger and pain and unfairness, screams until his throat is raw, until he can’t even speak. And then he sleeps, falls into a deep, dreamless sleep that is like a balm to his tortured soul.

-

He can hear whispers from the other room, Medivh’s voice, and another that is too muffled for him to make it out. He closes his eyes tightly as the door is opened slowly, and two sets of footfalls can be heard entering the room.

“I’ll leave the two of you alone,” Khadgar hears Medivh say, before the sound of him leaving the room is heard and the door is closed.

Khadgar can feel someone coming closer to him, sitting down on the edge of the cot Medivh had placed Khadgar on, a hand hovering inches away from his face.

“I know you’re awake, spell-chucker,” the voice, Lothar’s, says softly.

Khadgar lets his eyes fall open, turning just enough to see the face of the man who had haunted him for so long. Khadgar takes a shaky breath, pulling himself up into a seated position, causing Lothar’s outstretched out hand to rest upon his chest. He looks into those blue eyes, the ones who had seemed to fill his thoughts every night for as long as he could remember.

“He called me as soon as you came to him, as soon as you remembered. When I saw you the other day… I’d wanted to call you by name, to give you some sign that I knew who you were, but I knew you didn’t know everything yet. I could feel your eyes on me, knew you were starting to remember.”

“Lothar,” Khadgar says, his voice wrecked due to the screaming he had done earlier.

Lothar places a finger on Khadgar’s lips, silencing the younger man, “There will be plenty of time to talk later. You’ve been through a lot, I know how overwhelming the process is.”

Khadgar gave a grateful nod, falling back down onto the cot, mentally exhausted over everything. “Forgive me,” he whispered, before his eyes closed and blissful, dreamless sleep enveloped him once more.

“There is nothing to forgive,” Lothar said softly, moving to lay beside the sleeping younger man. He wrapped Khadgar in his arms, smiling at the contented sigh that passed the young man’s lips. Far too many of their lives had been lived apart, but the ones that seemed to be the most meaningful had been the ones where they had been together. Lothar wasn’t sure if Khadgar would accept his love in this life, but he had hope.

-

Medivh looked in on the sleeping pair, curled around each other as if trying to become one being. Small parts of him gave out a cry of unfairness, ones that had loved Khadgar in other lives, ones that had loved Lothar. But he stood firm, blocking out those voices who wanted to take what they believed was theirs. He knew, deep down in his soul, that Khadgar and Lothar were meant to be together. For it hadn’t been his name that either of them had called out when they remembered their other lives, it hadn’t been him that they dreamed of, it had been each other.

He distantly wondered at where in this world Garona was, though he couldn’t bring himself to search her out. There were too many conflicting emotions concerning her. Lives where they had been lovers, lives where he had been her father. It would be better if he stayed single, if he didn’t try and relive the past too much. For Medivh knew, while the Legion had no hold on this world there was always a chance, no matter how small, that they might eventually arrive.

He heard the door to his shop open, and walked out to see a large man standing in the doorway. Medivh nodded, leading the man into one of his back rooms. It seemed that Go’el was the most recent of them, the people of Draenor and Azeroth, to begin remembering his past.

-

As the sun began to set Khadgar and Lothar woke, silently slipping out of Kara’zan and onto the busy city streets. They could hear the screams from inside the building, a familiar, if somehow changed voice, to Khadgar’s ears. He understood that sound now far too well, and knew that whoever it was inside Medivh’s chambers would soon fully know his past.

Khadgar felt Lothar’s fingers twine into his own and looked down at their joined hands, a smile on his face. He squeezed Lothar’s hand, leaning ever so slightly into the older man’s shoulder as they walked down the street. He didn’t know what this new life had in store for them, but he was certain that it was somehow better than a world full of magic and demons and possession.

“What happens now?” he pondered out loud.

“This world is ours. I say we live it to the fullest.”

Khadgar nodded, handing over complete control to fate.


End file.
